Claiming Amelia

by Jessica Blake

  From a mother’s point of view, I understood why he felt abandoned. In the light of reality, he had been. A mother tends to forget the crime committed and remember only the punishment. After a time, it seems over-reactive and unjust. Bernie, although I knew he had loved Hawk in his own way, had made a poor substitute for a full set of parents. Well, the set of parents we should have been.

  In retrospect, we should have never sent them out of the country. In doing so, he had magnified the crime, and there was no resolution short of imprisonment for Bernie, a man who knowingly kidnapped a minor under judge’s orders.

  Would it have meant Hawk’s survival? Who could say? I knew it seemed the only solution at the moment, but in hindsight, dozens of possibilities could have been chosen.

  God, the guilt wanted to eat me alive. I knew I hadn’t done my best job at being a parent. I had been horribly selfish. I had wanted things tied up with a neat bow so I could go back to my life. I had wanted to do the things that interested me and let someone else make the sacrifices of parenthood.

  That’s when I realized the horrible truth. I had become my mother.

  I was exactly like the woman I had resented and later despised. It had all come full circle. The realization stunned me, and I actually became ill for a few days. My head ached, and I felt as though I had the flu. I kept to our room, and although Worth kept insisting I see a doctor, I declined. I knew what was wrong with me. It was a big case of old-fashioned guilt. The only cure was to face it and deal with its reality — and to make sure that I changed my ways from that point forward.

  I called Dad, and we talked at length about what happened. While he was thrilled that his grandson was back, I think he also felt guilt at what had taken place. He held himself accountable for Hawk, just as he had for Mother.

  The world was made up of many people, and although Worth’s science broke them into types, I thought they were more like mutts. A little of one breed, or quality, and some of another. Some came out wonderfully, inheriting the best traits of the lineage while others seemed to take the garbage left over and had to do the best they could with that. Did that make one life worth more than another?

  Those who inherited the good traits wanted to believe so. My mother was one of those, and now I realize, I probably was as well. We grew up having everything given to us and expected that would always happen. When life served up a different meal, we refused it; denied it had been given to us. We continued to live in our selfish fishbowl and believed that just because we willed it so, it was. Well, it wasn’t.

  Nor could I continue to blame everything on the LaViere blood. While it was the easiest thing to do, wasn’t that once again putting myself into a selfish fishbowl? Wasn’t I disavowing that I’d contributed to his mess in some way? At the very least that my genetics had encouraged the selfish evil that dominated the LaViere heritage? After all, Worth’s father had committed the atrocities of deliberate murder, cheating, manipulation, abandonment, abuse, and control. Wasn’t Worth simply dealing with the aftermath of his father’s obliteration of the family name? Was Hawk dealing with our legacy in the same sense?

  The answer came in a surprising form. I was still keeping to my room, spending hours before the window watching the farm operate under Lily’s steady hand and wondering how I could ever come to terms with the mess I’d created. Letty came up to say I had company, but I told her to say I was in bed, ill and didn’t want to see anyone. This someone didn’t take no for an answer and pushed around Letty to enter my room.

  Aggravated, I looked up to see Liane.

  She was almost wraithlike in her pale form but had a head of lustrous hair that decried any ill health. “I know you’re not up to company,” she said, “but I hoped you might make an exception for me. After all, we are to become family.” After a moment’s consideration, I nodded. Perhaps my salvation had just forced her way into my bedroom. I asked Letty to bring us up some tea and sandwiches and pointed to a pair of wingbacks that faced the big window overlooking the farm.

  Liane sat down, neatly crossing her ankles and smoothing out the fabric of her skirt. She looked quite like a school girl in a simple A-line skirt, a white blouse with Peter Pan collar, and a soft blue cardigan sweater with pearl buttons. She wore small pearl studs in her earlobes and a serviceable watch on her wrist. She smelled like summer sunshine, and her complexion was untouched by makeup. I felt like the headmistress at a boarding school when I took the other chair. Letty appeared with a tray and set it up between us.

  “Shall I pour?” Liane asked, and I nodded assent. I could afford to be generous in my control at times, and right then, I believed that was one occasion where it might be advantageous. I corrected my mental thought process at that point, realizing I was practicing old habits.

  “You know,” she began, “pouring tea is an age-old custom that generally falls to the woman of the house. It was her ceremonial acknowledgement and quite the tool for superiority. She had the sole option of determining the order of presentation, how it was presented and even whether some member in the room might be excluded. I appreciate the subtlety of your allowing me to pour, and I want you to know that I will never attempt to replace you. Not in your family and certainly not in Hawk’s life.”

  I flinched at the use of his new nickname but recognized it was only one of the many things I might take exception to over the upcoming years. Despite her respectful little tale, Liane was letting me know that my role was changing. I was no longer the mother to a young Ford. He was an adult now and Liane would be taking on much of my former responsibilities for him.

  Am I ready for this new role? I suppose I am… must be, having done such a poor job of it up until now, anyway. And what of Liane? So, this is the woman who I will entrust with my legacy, I thought to myself. Was she up to the chore?

  Liane was looking at me with a question on her face, and I realized that I’d been deeply introspective and had shut her out. “I’m sorry, I’ve had a lot to process the last few days, and my mind wants to wander.”

  “That’s fine,” she said. “I understand. Perhaps more than you could possibly realize. Yes, there’s been a lot that’s happened lately in my life as well. This engagement to your son came about fairly quickly.”

  That was when I believed I understood. “Are you trying to hold on to a rich catch?” I asked, feeling my voice morph into the superior and very bitchy one of my mother. I hated myself for it.

  Her reaction was unexpected. “I can understand why you would believe that. I would too, I suppose, if I were in your shoes. The poor daughter of a vicar happens to meet the heir to a great fortune, except he’s on the outs with them. So, she insists that he patch things up, make sure he’s in the will, so to speak. That is how it would appear from the outside. It’s very hard to explain, Mrs. LaViere—”

  “Call me Auggie.” I never could stand being called Mrs. LaViere. There were too many of them ahead of me, and I wanted my own name.

  “Thank you, Auggie. As I was saying, I won’t insult you by singing my own praises. Those you will discover and think through on your own. I had a feeling maybe you’d feel that way, and it’s one of the reasons I’m here. I’ve not spoken to Hawk about this, but I insist on signing a pre-nuptial that will protect him and his money. I’m not marrying him for money, I can assure you. If all you want from life is money, it’s the easiest thing to get.”

  Her words struck me hard in their logic. She was absolutely right. The LaViere family had been driven by money, generation after generation, and at what price? They had enough to eat, a bed to sleep in and you could only sit in one chair at a time. Their problem was they had too much money and not enough soul to handle it. But then, there I was, generalizing once again. I was blaming the LaViere bloodline for things that ran in my own veins just as strong.

  “What you and Hawk do is up to the both of you, Liane.” I was beginning to like this young thing. She was nothing like me, and I found that intriguing. If anything, she was better organ
ized in her life than I was, and I had to admire that. She wasn’t working with the label system I had always used: name, family, social standing, money, and eligibility.

  “I know you’re not used to having people with my background around you,” she was saying, and it was almost as if she could read my mind. “Let’s just say, my family has chosen a quiet non-existence over prominence, and that has worked very well for us.”

  “You’re making me out to be a snob, Liane.”

  “Not at all, Auggie. I just wanted you to know that I understand the difference in our backgrounds and that I intend to do everything in my power to make your son a good wife. I won’t be offended if you don’t want to include me in your social gatherings — just so long as Hawk is. He belongs with his family and someday, perhaps, we’ll have our own. But until then, he needs your acceptance and inclusion. He feels very rejected.”

  I was quiet and then whispered, “I know. I felt it. I didn’t do it on purpose. It just happened and spiraled out of control. I love him very much.”

  Liane patted my hand. “I know you do, but he needs to feel it too, and you need to be less conflicted about it. You love him and are scared of him. You want him but are afraid of him. You feel guilt and shame, which overshadows the love. He bought that place next door so he could be close, but it was like looking through the bakery window.”

  “What changed his mind? Why did he finally come to us?” I asked.

  “You might say I made it a condition.” She smiled. “Not that he wouldn’t have on his own, but it might have taken a long time. By then his brother and sister may have been at a college or on their own, and he’d never get the chance to experience family again.”

  I nodded, seeing her logic. “Thank you, Liane. You’re not even in the family yet, and you’ve already done a great deal to heal some wounds. You’re welcomed to be one of us, although you may not think that’s such a treat!” I smirked at my joke.

  “I will be happy to be a part of your family, and I welcome you into mine, as well. Although it’s only my dad and me.”

  “Your mother?”

  “She’s gone now. Cancer.”

  “No siblings?”

  “Just me.”

  “Your dad?”

  “He’s a vicar, well, you would call him a minister, of a small church downtown. It’s his life, and I believe he sometimes feels as though he’s still in England. It’s a quaint building, and he lives in the vicarage behind. He tends to his flock, and they keep him on.”

  “And you?”

  “Me? Well, I got my degree and took care of my mother until she passed. I volunteer at the YMCA on the west end. That’s where Hawk and I first met. I’m also a zoologist and work at the Louisville Zoo.”

  “Really? That’s fascinating. So, you like animals?”

  Liane nodded. “Animals, fish, birds, plants — all of it. It’s been said that I have a way with living creatures.”

  I grinned and nodded. “I think they’re right.” I found myself really glad that Liane was joining the family. I hugged her before she left. Soon, I was feeling much better and had rejoined the living by going down to the barn.

  Worth

  I saw Auggie headed toward the barns and it made me feel much better. I’d seen Liane leaving as I drove in and waved at her, even though to me she was pretty much still a total stranger.

  Following Auggie, I caught up to her at the horse therapy pool. She was trying to lead a new boarder into the water and it wasn’t being very cooperative. I frowned. She shouldn’t be doing that. I motioned to one of the hands to take over, and Auggie looked surprised, then angry as she handed over the reins.

  “What’s the matter? Think I don’t have it anymore?” she asked me as she approached, her mouth set in a thin line. “Think you can just order someone else to do my job in my barn?”

  Shit. I’d fucked up again.

  “I know you can do anything you want to do, but you’ve been out of the rhythm for a bit. Let Lily do her job. You’re only the boss now.”

  “Only? Really? So I should go eat bon bons like a good little wife and not do any of the things I love?” Auggie’s temper flashed, and I stepped back a bit.

  “Auggie…” I warned with a low growl. “That’s not what I meant. You’re letting this whole thing get to you. C’mon up to the house with me and let’s talk.”

  “I’ll be up when I’m ready.”

  While this raised my brows, I could tell little more was going to be accomplished here without riling her further, so I turned around and went up to the house. Eventually, Auggie showed up, and I was waiting for her on the patio.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “Why does anything have to be going on?”

  “C’mon, Auggie, it’s not like you to be like this. Out with it.”

  She sat down and looked out over the horizon. “Liane came by to see me today,” she said, her voice as far away as the view she was looking upon.

  “Yes, I saw her pulling out as I came in. Seems a bit meek, if you ask me.”

  “Meek?” She practically snarled in my direction. “Well, Mr. LaViere, what you see as meek is actually nice in normal people terms.”

  “Woah, Auggie! Where is this coming from?”

  She kicked the concrete with her boot. “Damn, I’m just tired of all this LaViere quarreling, Worth. Do you realize that in all the time I’ve known you, there’s always one LaViere or another mad or getting revenge against another? Don’t you people ever just settle back and appreciate each other?”

  I decided to let her wear herself out with this. It wasn’t as if I had a very good argument, anyway. She was factually correct although I don’t think she totally understood the dynamics of why we fought. It was more about control and domination than anything else. It obliterated anything that came close to love. That’s when the realization hit me...

  We don’t know how to love. Jesus! Why didn’t that become apparent to me before?

  I was a highly educated psychologist, and yet this innate disability had never occurred to me. Perhaps it was because of my training that I’d never acknowledged it? This gave me pause for thought while Auggie and I both sat quietly in contemplation.

  Finally, I broke it. “So, just exactly what are you saying?”

  “I’d like you to hear me out, Worth.”

  I kicked off my shoes and settled back. “Go ahead.”

  “From the first day I met you, all those years ago when Mother sent me to your clinic to be “analyzed,” I’ve always thought there was something intrinsically wrong with me. Perhaps it was my mother’s influence or perhaps just because I was rebelling. It didn’t matter. Where she left off, you picked up, pushing my buttons and causing me to react in whatever manner best suited your opinion of how I should feel about things.”

  I picked up on the word “causing” and the blame she laid at other’s feet. But I didn’t interrupt. I stayed quiet. Tried to be a husband, not a psychologist.

  “When I thought things were wrong between you and your father, I couldn’t say a word. I had to support you. When I thought you handled things badly with Linc, even though he was my brother as much as yours, his name was LaViere, so that made him hands off. Then when Ford was no longer a little boy and his temper began to exhibit itself, I backed off and let you handle it. I figured you were the shrink, the expert, so what did I know? What I didn’t take into consideration was that I had perspective that was unique. I was, next to you, the most involved person and yet I relinquished my power, my judgement, in favor of yours. That was wrong. Wrong of me to allow it and wrong of you to take it.”

  “Auggie, I had no idea—”

  She lifted a finger. “You said you would hear me out.”

  I nodded and swept my hand out in permission.

  “So, here we are. We’ve not been with our eldest son for the majority of his life, and he hates us for it. He doesn’t feel included; thinks we don’t love him. Liane told me as much today. I
do love him. But you know what? I’m not sure you do.”

  I jerked upright at this accusation but kept my peace. What could I say? I’d just been thinking the same thing only moments ago.

  She knew she’d stabbed me but continued on. “Your entire family have all been more focused on competing with one another than you have loving one another. You call yourself a therapist, but I think this is one of those occasions where they say, ‘physician heal thyself.’ You can’t sit there and tell me you did everything you could have for our son. You could have gone to Mexico at some point and made sure everything was okay. You’ve got connections, why didn’t you use them? God knows you have money, yet our own flesh and blood was living in a place where he got beat up and maimed because he was white and looked prosperous, although he didn’t have a dollar he could call his own in his pocket. You call that looking out for your child?”

  I opened my mouth, but she held that finger up again, her green eyes daring me to interrupt. I sat back and took a deep breath.

  “I know I’m just as guilty as you are. The only difference is that I’m accepting the blame now, and I’m determined to make this better. I’m admitting I screwed up, that I’m fallible and selfish, and I looked for the clean, easy way out of that mess. Out of sight, out of mind, as they say. And why? To protect him? Hardly. You could have had him moved to a private facility where he wouldn’t have had to deal with the general population.”

  I could hold my tongue no longer. “I put him where I thought he needed to be, Auggie. He was out of control. He needed to understand that behavior like that has consequences.”

  “So, you sent a child to Mexico? Oh, yeah, that was teaching him. You took a young boy who was drugged out of his mind by your doctor friends and put him in the middle of squalor in a country where he couldn’t even speak the language. And who did you put in charge of his welfare? A kind, gentle man with no more street smarts than Hawk! Surely to god even you aren’t so shallow that you can’t see that?”